


Problems That May Arise

by UniversalSatan



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Falling In Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands Bingo, M/M, Meta, Metaphors, Mutual Pining, Stargazing, zodiacs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 00:05:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20266750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UniversalSatan/pseuds/UniversalSatan
Summary: Aziraphale loves. He loves freely. Angels are made up of love in the same way humans are of water — and just as humans fear of drowning, Aziraphale fears.Ineffable Husbands Bingo:   Star-gazing





	Problems That May Arise

**Author's Note:**

> oh my god, i can't believe im FINALLy posting some gomens — my other gomens prose had some... difficulties lol, but then i joined the ineffable husbands bingo and here i am. I started this on the plane to japan based on something [tit](https://toshidaves.tumblr.com/) said in our groupchat, and then i continued it in the car on the way back from canmore... safe to say it wasn't written in the most sane of mindsets but bless [cameron](https://aro-alien.tumblr.com/) for betaing, ilyall sm :,)
> 
> also, i'll just say that i have next to no knowledge regarding astronomy and zodiacs and mythology and all that, so please be gentle sldkfjdklsjf

The concept of birthdays does not wholly exist in the biblical realms of heaven and hell.

This does not, however, have anything to do with the concept of birth. Everyone was born[1] at some point, which is partially the reasoning behind the sophisticated ranking systems between angels and demons.

The issue behind birthdays isn’t _ births _ : it’s _ days _.

See, God invented days around the same time She created the Earth, because through some intricately complex equation that humans cannot yet comprehend, both are inversely related. Since all of the angels that are and ever were in Heaven at some point before time were birthed before all of this day nonsense began, they can’t really have birth_ days _, and rather classify relative age by who was born after their existence and who preceded them.

Despite the fact that birthdays are nonexistent within the ethereal and occultist supernatural communities, human beings have evolved to depend on a basis of birthday numbers; thusly, being able to pass as humans can also mean choosing good enough numbers to be constituted as a ‘birth-day’.

Then again, choosing a birthday is not entirely necessary for living on Earth, as evident in the case of Aziraphale and Crowley: they both have the appearance of being too old to be IDed, and a lot of paperwork is happily avoided through the occasional frivolous miracle here and there. However, there have been a handful of cases throughout history where both Aziraphale and Crowley have found a birthday necessary to avoid suspicion, and so they each chose a date for future reference.

Aziraphale has only encountered two occasions in which he needed to use a birthday: the first time was rather on a whim, where the most charming and slightly bewitched of princes from the 14th century had inquired the angel about their day of birth. (Though Aziraphale is quite broadly understood as gullible, he also has somewhat of a natural thickness to him, where in this instance, he had not quite caught the will of the infatuated prince to find an excuse to throw a grand celebration for the angel in question. Luckily, Aziraphale’s ‘birthdate’ had unfortunately just passed, and there was no need for such extravagant measures with the help of a miracle or two.) The second time Aziraphale needed to use a birthdate was actually more out of sentimentality, where he wanted to write the documents for his ownership of his bookshop as authentically as possible, having miraculously remembered the exact date he had used before. Though there is conveniently no mention of a birth_ year _, Aziraphale still has those documents framed up proudly in his backroom where both he and Crowley can look freely upon its marvel.

What is especially intriguing about decisions made on a whim is that occasionally, if one is especially lucky, those choices reflect strings of fate that even the subconscious barely understands. In choosing February 14th as a birthdate in the spur of an isolated moment with the prince, Aziraphale was lucky enough to tap into something as disgustingly cliché as being ‘meant to be.’

Perhaps you have been observant enough to notice that this date wasn’t just any date, but what we now connotate to the popular holiday of Valentine’s Day. It is possible that Aziraphale had been reminiscing in the moment, but he was rather familiar with the saint and had become rather well acquainted with the man in his time.

(Saint Valentine had actually been the subject of one of Aziraphale’s miracle chores[2]: the angel had found the to-be-saint under house arrest in Judge Asterius’ home while visiting as an honourable guest and had taken the time to converse with the man. He was aware that Valentine had been discussing faith with Asterius —Heavens, he was the one who gently influenced the man to do so— and took the liberty in granting Saint Valentine the ability to perform miracles on the basis that he was to promote faith in God. In his time at Judge Asterius’ house, Aziraphale had grown rather fond of the Saint’s lively manner and earnest dedication, having gotten to know the man better over more than a few drinks and one or two baths; when it was time for Saint Valentine to be martyred, Aziraphale was genuinely devastated and rushed to Flaminian Gate for his execution on February 14th, 269. Perhaps Aziraphale nurtured a very tender soft spot for the saint, having remembered that date all those centuries later.)

Crowley, on the other hand, has only encountered one occasion in which he needed to use a birthday: there are certain internet games among the likes of Webkinz and Clash of Clans that require the user to submit a birthdate in the process of registration, which Crowley spends a considerable amount of time and a considerable amount of money on each game for the sole purpose of aggravating other users with his decked-out characters and environments. (It is perhaps worthy to mention that Aziraphale has only teased him about this pastime once, never mentioning the hobby again as the result of Crowley’s snarky denial and increased inconspicuousness.)

There was no particular reason for Crowley to choose October 31st as a birthdate other than the fact that he rather liked being cliché. Though holidays such as Thanksgiving and Christmas definitely have plenty of room for sin, Halloween allows room for creativity, and Crowley is more than happy exercising his snake form on some unsuspecting trick-or-treaters[3].

Though it was completely unintentional, this assigned birthdate would make Crowley a Scorpio. Many would scoff at the reliance of zodiac signs, but it is important to note that there are many points regarding Scorpios that, coincidentally, align quite well with the demon. For example, according to astrology-online.com, Scorpios “sometimes possess penetrating eyes which makes their shyer companions feel naked and defenseless before them.”

Throughout history, Crowley has taken to wearing a series of iconic black glasses both to shield his serpentine eyes as well as to add to his overall aesthetic. This is in part, of course, to protect both the sensitivity of his eyes and the sanity of every human he’s interacted with, but it also preserves the effectiveness of what astrology-online.com would regard to as his “penetrating eyes.”

See, vision itself offers a form of penetration used in observation or study. There are points when an individual’s focus only floats above its surroundings, barely present in a sense of disassociation or even simply relaxation, but concentration can shift to strip down the very layers of a subject to have a glimpse of their soul. With dark glasses, this act can be done inconspicuously, and Crowley can revel in unearthing every aspect of the angel currently sitting at his side.

Without glasses, this action may become a two-way channel.

Does Crowley fear vulnerability? The possibility is quite likely, but not one the demon would ever admit to. Crowley’s eyes are piercing with their intimidatingly serpentine pupils and vibrantly amber irises. He knows the effect they have on others, how their mere presence can halt armies and force the bravest of warriors to kneel before him; he knows the effect they have on Aziraphale, how their mere presence visibly makes the angel feel stripped and bare but not fearful in the slightest. Crowley loves that about him.

What Crowley _ does _ fear is how Aziraphale stares right back, pushing through in his own piercing, penetrating way. He looks deep, searching for something Crowley is quite sure he lost, and it takes everything in him to not look away. Hell, it was one of the sole reasons he began wearing glasses in the first place after about four millennia — Aziraphale was staring too often, and too deep. Lust was Crowley’s objective: not love.

Though, in retrospect, lust had always been an excuse.

In fact, astrology-online.com continues to elaborate that Scorpios are “the most sensually energetic of all the signs.” Scorpio is a symbol of sex, and it wouldn’t be fair to not acknowledge the dabbling Crowley has done over the past millennia in that spectrum of sin. As a result, Crowley became well versed in the art of seduction across the gender spectrum and was not afraid to fraternize in the act of defiance or even fear. Lust was one of the seven sins, and it was an excuse Crowley could fall back on to escape the impending cognizance of something internal and much more sacred.

Even if Crowley had the energy to quell his cowardice and fess up, he knows that his efforts will end in naught with the powers of Heaven and Hell against them: “[Scorpio] feelings are so intense that even when their love is of the highest, and most idealistic kind, they are nevertheless frequently protagonists in tragic, even violent romances, “star-crossed lovers.””

Here they sit, in the caliginosity of the Argentinian _ Salinas Grandes _, dark glasses perched in their usual spot on Crowley’s nose, breaching the connection he so fears between the angel and himself. The angel tries to see past them, tries to bridge through the darkness and into what is left of Crowley’s soul, but all he can see are the stars reflected in dim glass, crossing the only wall between them.

It is only fair to mention now that astrology-online.com also has quite a bit to say about Aquarius, which would be Aziraphale’s chosen zodiac sign. The aforementioned webpage lists qualities that are undoubtedly aligned with that of the angel’s: “[Aquarius] are humane, frank, serious minded, genial, refined, sometimes ethereal, and idealistic, though this last quality is tempered with a sense of practicality.” It then continues to list that they are “nearly always intelligent, concise, clear, and logical.” They like fighting for causes, dreaming of the past, and good companions. They dislike full of air promises and excessive loneliness. All of this, for the most part, is correct.

At the very bottom of this article is a headline: **PROBLEMS THAT MAY ARISE FOR YOU, AND THEIR SOLUTIONS**. Aziraphale has never personally read this webpage before, and he probably never will, but the article still contains advice that could very well be valuable to the angel.

**PROBLEM: ** **Being left all alone while others enjoy the companionship you long for.**

**SOLUTION: ** **You should practice expressing your humanity by accepting people the way they are and not find too much fault in them.**

Aziraphale, when it got right down to it, would never call himself _ lonely _. There were plenty of humans that he befriended throughout his time on Earth, even if their lifespans were but a speck of light in the overall progression of time. Heavens, there was even a demon quite keen on needling their way into his life, whether or not it was a companionship Aziraphale consciously seeked out. Though, in all honesty, Aziraphale would be lying if he didn’t watch friendships and mentorships and relationships wax and wane, century by century, longing for something nearly as fulfilling and everlasting of his own.

But because lying is a sin, Aziraphale avoids thinking about it at all. Heaven has plans, and he prays the ineffability of eternity will grant him some sort of satisfaction.

What Aziraphale does not see is an answer to his unconscious prayers sitting right next to him on the salt flat, distracted with the vast display of galaxies and constellations above them. Heaven and Hell may believe that they’ve gone native, but in reality, there’s still an ounce of humanity that Aziraphale can’t quite grasp, his fingertips tasting the very tip of that salty quality.

He almost has it. Many things have happened to the angel that still needs to be processed, so acceptance can wait. It will wait. Crowley is patient enough. He’s been waiting for six millennia, and he can wait for six more. Time only sharpens the longing, making the wait unbearable, but Crowley holds onto the one thing he believes in and never lets go.

Aziraphale never did find much fault in Crowley anyway.

**PROBLEM: ** **You always seem to miss the boat when it comes to love.**

**SOLUTION: ** **Try letting down the mental guard that you keep on your emotions that stops you from being the self you long to be.**

Aziraphale loves. He loves freely. Angels are made up of love in the same way humans are of water — and just as humans fear of drowning, Aziraphale fears.

O, how he longs to love with passion, to love without bounds! He loves humanity regardless of any sins, but he misses the boat in fear of drowning. Aziraphale missed the boat with the “as long as you’re being seen to be doing something” and the “little demonic miracle of my own” and especially the “we can run away together.” Instead, Aziraphale clung onto what he knew: God’s Ineffable Plan.

Here, however, Aziraphale feels differently. He feels change. He _ wants _ change. The post-water sea has transformed into one of stars, and Aziraphale is floating. Crowley is floating too. The salt underneath them smells fresh, and the light breeze is cool.

Aziraphale reaches for the wine —a bottle of Malbec from the local region, also once water in origin— and pulls the cork free with a _ pop _, easily done with a mindless miracle.

“I helped make them, you know,” Crowley says, breaking the silence between them. Aziraphale, busy pouring the alcohol into two wine glasses, hums in response. Crowley continues. “Most of them — _ well… _the important ones.”

Aziraphale huffs, smiling to himself. “And what makes them more important than the rest?”

“Well, I made them, for one.” Crowley can’t help but grin when he pulls a chuckle from the angel.

“My dear boy-”

“They’re also the biggest and brightest in the night sky. See, look over there.” Crowley is pointing to Aziraphale’s side of sky, barely taking notice of the wineglass being offered to him. “That’s Aquarius. You can see him pouring water into the mouth of the Southern Fish.”

“Is that so?” Aziraphale muses, amused tone low and somewhat gruff. His gaze shifts to the demon instead, content with viewing Aquarius through the reflection of his glasses. He knows the lore well enough —two millennia is plenty of time to memorize the night sky— but doesn’t have the heart to interrupt.

Crowley shifts his hand, pointing at the other side of the sky. “Scorpius is over there, on the opposite side of the celestial sphere from Orion. Did you know he’s running away from Scorpius? Just as Scorpius rises, Orion sets.”

“Scorpius is Orion’s killer, is he not?” Aziraphale recalls, finally nudging the other wine glass into Crowley’s free hand. 

“It’s _ ineffable _, angel,” Crowley spits out teasingly, and the angel rolls his eyes.

“_ Well? _ How can he? My dear boy, they’ll play cat and mouse forever. He’ll be running away for eternity.”

Crowley doesn’t say anything. He stares at the sky away from Aziraphale, gazing at Scorpius in speculation. Unconsciously, he swirls the wine in his glass, letting it almost but not quite slosh over the edge.

Turning rather slowly to face the angel, Crowley lifts his wine in a toast and cocks his head to the side. “To eternity?”

Aziraphale pouts. “I believe we already established how unpleasant an eternity would be.”

“I wouldn’t mind an eternity with you, angel.”

His mouth opens, and then it closes. He can’t see Crowley’s eyes, can’t gauge the intricacies of his words, but the meaning travels like an electric shock throughout his being. Aziraphale grips his glass a little tighter, hoping the other can’t notice the quiver of his hand.

Finally, his face softens. “You simply _ must _ get rid of those damned glasses, dear: I can’t see you with them on.” Crowley’s smile twitches. Aziraphale beams like the sun, raising his own glass. “ _ To eternity. _” The crystal clinks, and each glass is brought to lips; though Aziraphale still can’t see his eyes, he doesn’t miss how Crowley struggles to keep his smile from growing.

The Mendoza wine is dry in its sweetness, but a fruity taste dances amongst its bitterness. Both celestial beings take a moment to drink in the taste of the drink, enjoying the moment in complete sobriety before the alcohol kicks in.

“I can’t _ believe _you don’t like my glasses,” Crowley mutters, and Aziraphale laughs. “All this time? I always tried to keep in style.”

“Don’t be silly, dear: I already told you why.”

Crowley stares at him for a moment, his eyes lost behind the star-crossed glass of his spectacles. For a while he ponders, penetrating Aziraphale behind the safety of dark glass, before he turns away again, staring back at Scorpius.

“Did you know Libra used to be Scorpius’ claws?” Crowley says, easily changing the subject. “The balance of heaven, I believe they’re called. At one point they were even associated autumnal equinox… remember, angel?”

“A balance between night and day,” Aziraphale murmurs. He sips at his wine, feeling warm and not quite caring how his thoughts were beginning to grow sluggish. “Weren’t those the scales Famine had?”

Crowley frowns. “Now that you mention it…”

“My sword and your scales… isn’t that funny?”

Crowley doesn’t find it very funny at all. _ My, how times have changed _.

“Isn’t the Earth a Libra?” Aziraphale says absently, filling the silence. “Wouldn’t you know it: air and water signs keeping it in balance.”

“We chose those birthdates, angel.”

“And you didn’t choose a fire sign, dear. I think it says a lot more about you than you think.”

Reaching over, Aziraphale dusts his fingers over Crowley’s, spread out in the salt and propping his lithe body up. This action garners the demon’s attention, who watches silently as the angel wraps his fingers around the other’s. Both of their heads are spinning, but neither have had very much to drink at all. 

With all the time in the world, (after all, they had both waited a few millennia), Aziraphale brings Crowley’s hand to his lips like the sea sky kisses the ocean waves. They sit like that for a while, poised under millions upon billions of stars winking and blinking back down at them.

Without removing his angel-kissed hand, Crowley sets down his wine glass on the Argentinean _ Salinas Grandes _, moving his now-free hand to hesitate by his eyes.

Crowley takes off his glasses, and Aziraphale drowns.

* * *

1 Except for perhaps God, but only God knows that.[return to text]

2 Every saint is produced by the hands of an angel. While it may be all fun and games to claim that the Holy Spirit randomly chooses those worthy of its power, it is actually the job of an angel to grant a saint their miracle-giving ability in the first place. Personally, Aziraphale is quite fond of getting to know each saint (as he is responsible for most Earth-inhabiting saints) and letting them willingly take work from his hands. Sainthood was a bit like a more temporary, human version of The Arrangement, if anything at all.[return to text]

3 Soiling oneself isn’t exactly a sin, but Crowley still takes immense pleasure in wreaking havoc.[return to text]

**Author's Note:**

> don't be afraid to stick around, because i still have an entire bingo card to churn thru ;^)
> 
> → [main tumblr blog](http://universalsatan.tumblr.com/)  
→ [writing blog](http://celestialberries.tumblr.com/)


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